


Begin Again

by artitties



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artitties/pseuds/artitties
Summary: Bulma revives Raditz but the universe is not as he left it.





	1. Two years and some change

The ship was much bigger than the vehicle he had last seen Bulma with. A quaint little thing that Raditz had easily towered over during his brief stint on the island where they'd met. This new ship seemed big enough to comfortably accommodate his substantial height, although he did find himself having to stoop a little as they stepped into the cockpit. He kept his head bowed just enough so the crown of his head merely brushed against the curved windscreen as opposed to knocking against it. Such precautions came naturally with his size.

Bulma turned and gestured to the passenger seat at her side, and Raditz stepped forward to hesitantly lower himself onto the creaking leather. Adjusting her headset, she tapped at the expansive console in front of her. The jets of the ship started with a deep whirr of rushing air as they rose several dozen feet straight up, then proceeded at speed to wherever the human planned on taking them. To _her place,_ she'd said.

Raditz’s grip on the armrests tightened as he watched the woman work the controls until they were travelling at a constant speed and the autopilot was sufficient. He had assumed as much, anyway. The Saiyan squinted at the control panels and the symbols that flashed across the display only to realise he had no knowledge of Earth's written language. It surprised Raditz, there weren't many planets that hadn't adopted Galactic Standard as the common language. Though he supposed that it made sense given that Earth had no business with other entities in the Universe until now, being the backwater little hovel that it is.

She'd revived him. The Earth woman. Raditz had lost track of the time he'd spent in the Otherworld but he hadn't expected to be ripped from it in a flash of blinding golden light and deposited rather unceremoniously into the field where he'd been killed. Least of all he expected the first thing he saw on his return to be her. The voice of the Dragon boomed its farewell, taking with it the seven dragon balls and the light that had completely obscured his vision.

By the time his eyes had adjusted, he could still barely even comprehend what had happened. He was alive, yes. The Dragon had brought him back, just as the earthlings said it could. That all made sense, but where was Vegeta? Nappa? Where were his comrades?

Instead, he'd stared down at the blue haired woman standing rather expectantly in front of him, her hands planted on her hips.

“Where’s Vegeta?” Raditz barked at her.

“Vegeta’s not around right now, sorry,” She replied much too casually, “But, y’know, welcome back to the land of the living. No big deal. I do this kind of thing every day.”

“ _You_ wished me back?” he balked, “Why?”

Bulma shrugged before leisurely stretching her arms, pacing her way towards the airship parked in the field a hundred yards or so back, “Does a lady need a reason to do a good deed? C’mon, let's head back to my place so we can figure out what it is you wanna do with your newfound gift of life,” she paused, giving a swift turn and glancing back at Raditz, “Really though, a thank you wouldn't go amiss.”

“You've got to be joking,” The Saiyan growled as he stomped towards Bulma, casting a long shadow over her as his looming form blocked out the light of the low sun, “Where’s Vegeta?”

“He's not here! Geez, what do you want?” Bulma gestured widely at the open sky with both hands, “His galactic coordinates? ‘Cause if you want ‘em so bad I could probably track where he's taken my fucking ship, but you’d still need to come with me.”

Raditz’s face reddened as she leaned up towards him, inching her face closer to his and challenging his stare with a pout. Raditz broke first, tearing away from the eye-contact with a huff and folding his arms across his chest, “Why would I fall for such a foolish trick? You're obviously trying to lure me--”

“Seriously, I'm not bluffing,” Bulma sighed in an even but slightly irritated tone.

“I brought you back because we've given everyone else a second chance. Even that _asshat_ who you're so desperate to see,” she rolled her eyes for emphasis, “There's no hidden motive or anything. It's as I said, a good deed. Is that so damn hard to understand or are you Saiyans all thick headed?”

“And what is it you’d do if I decided to use this _gift_ of yours to slaughter you and the rest of this miserable planet?” Raditz snarled, scowling deep enough to bare his pointed canines.

“That'd be a mistake,” Bulma replied calmly, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket, “Piccolo, the guy who killed you? Green one. He's stronger than ever, so's little Gohan!”

Raditz clenched his jaw. He had forgotten about them. The thought of the child becoming even more powerful made him hesitate.

“Besides, you don't really have a reason to,” the woman continued, “Your friends are gone, your pod is destroyed, and Frieza's dead. So it seems to me you've got some time to think things over, yeah?”

She'd glanced up at him from behind her overgrown blue bangs, “But if you want off this planet, sad to say that I'm your only option. Vegeta stole our last spaceship so I've gotta build another,” she wagged a finger at him playfully, ”That's only if you play nice though!”

Raditz bristled at that, the redness in his face deepening. The last thing he wanted after being thrown back into mortality was to cooperate with a human, and especially one so weak, but she was correct about the absence of his friends and the sorry state of his pod.

“Lord Frieza is dead?” he growled, and Bulma nodded in confirmation. It was unlikely to be a bluff. Raditz hadn't even mentioned Frieza during his stint on earth and he wasn't even sure at this point how she knew of Frieza or what exactly she meant by Vegeta being gone. Being gone implied that he was present at some point. There was a lot he needed to know and the human said they'd talk about it. Back at her place.  
  


“We’ll be there in about two hours. You died an awful long way from West city, you know,” Bulma’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he turned to meet her gaze. She was smiling and Raditz tried to recall the last time someone had looked at him like that. He found he couldn't.

“Oh,” he offered, lamely.

“A lot’s happened while you've been gone.”

“So I see,” his tone was cold, somewhat distracted by the thoughts swimming in his mind, “How long has it been?”

It was all he could think to ask.

Bulma glanced up at the Saiyan, sweeping her bangs out of the way, “‘Bout two years and some change.”

“And Frieza is dead,” Raditz again reiterated. His eyes narrowed and his mouth began to twist into a scowl, “How?! How in God's name did that happen?!”

His voice became much too loud for the small confines of the cockpit and Bulma shrank away slightly, suddenly aware of the vast area the other passenger occupied.

“Goku killed him,” She folded her arms and frowned at the Saiyan, “Vegeta said he transformed and beat him that way. Called it Super Saiyan or something. He was really fucking hung up about it.”

“K-, Kakarot?! Kakarot is a Super Saiyan?” Raditz stammered, his voice louder still, “O-of course Vegeta is _hung up about it_!” he shouted, grabbing the armrest of the pilots chair and pulling himself in towards her, “You're telling me that _Kakarot_ , who doesn't even possess his _tail,_ transformed into the Super Saiyan of legend and killed the emperor of the universe?!”

Bulma frowned deeply, her lip quirked in irritation as she firmly shoved the Saiyan away, “That's exactly what I am telling you. There's no need to shout. I can hear you perfectly fine, you know.”

Sagging back into his seat, Raditz cupped his mouth with a hand and looked distantly out through the cockpit windshield and into the dark moonless sky. Another change he’d soon learn of.

So much had happened without him. Vegeta and Nappa-, or at least Vegeta? He wasn’t sure what became of his older companion, but Vegeta at least, saw no use in reviving him. He was a Saiyan. The last of his people, abandoned by his Prince, and stranded on an undeveloped planet with no purpose to speak of. His death and subsequent time in the afterlife had left him with a certain feeling of emptiness that one would expect from being severed from the mortal coil, but his soul _ached_. Everything that he’d ever was known ripped so suddenly away that he almost wished he was back in the Otherworld.

For a moment he hated her. She brought him back, taking everything away and reducing him to nothing.

She gave him a second chance.

”What-... what do I do?” he asked, the anger draining from his voice as it quietened with contemplation.

“Haven't you been listening?” Bulma shedded her sour expression with a heave and offered a half smile, “That's what we need to figure out. You've got your whole life ahead of you, Raditz.”

Reaching out across the gap between them, Bulma placed her hand gently on his large forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His muscles tensed at the contact but Raditz made no move to reject it.

“... Your name?”

Bulma blinked up at him before pulling her hand away and breaking into an embarrassed giggle, her cheeks flushing pink, “Oh right! I never introduced myself properly! I'm Bulma. Bulma Briefs.”

Her laughter almost seemed to soothe his existential ache and Raditz nodded, the corners of his lips threatening to pull into a smile.

“Bulma. I have just spent two years and some change in what I can only describe as Hell, and I am extremely hungry.”

“Well duh! You’re a Saiyan, no wonder you’re so cranky!” Bulma pulled off her headset and clambered over the side of her seat, pulling out a hefty cooler from underneath, “No sweat, I always come prepared.” 


	2. Birds of a Feather

“Thought I’d find you here,” Bulma grinned, leaning on her elbows against the white fence and peering at the Saiyan, crouched on the floor with his back to her. She bounced gently on the balls of her feet and watched him with interest, “Guess you just like picking up chicks, eh?”

Raditz angled his head towards the sound of her voice, followed by a soft grunt as he heaved himself to his feet. He turned fully towards her with a single plump chicken tucked snugly under his arm. 

“The infants have not yet completed their incubation,” Raditz replied evenly. The chicken clucked in agreement.

“Ah, right,” Bulma’s excited fidgeting halted with the reminder that her house guest was still in fact an alien, despite his apparent fondness for her dad’s animals. Contextual humour might be something they’d have to work on but, hey, at least he was more of a talker than their previous guest. She had that to be grateful for at least.

Still with bird in tow, Raditz paced over to Bulma to meet her on the opposite side of the fence, “You wanted something?”

Bulma pushed herself up off of her elbows, her neck craning to maintain eye-contact as he approached.

“Yeah. Your armour’s all fixed up! Honestly I think we could even improve the design with some tweaks. I sketched up some drafts if you wanna take a look.” 

He’d finally relinquished his armour into her care after several days of asking and one short afternoon where it stopped being a question and became an order. It had taken some further weeks to completely replicate the alien textile and all of its properties in order to repair the damage to the cuirass where Piccolo, in polite terms, had done a number on it. She had wondered why Shenron could bring his body back but couldn't be bothered to repair his armour, but had conceded that arguing with the logic of a magic dragon might be a battle she'd lose.

In the meantime she found she struggled somewhat to clothe the man, which conceptually didn’t strike her as a problem but in reality proved a little awkward. She’d almost choked laughing when Raditz stepped out of the guest room, practically spilling out of the t-shirt and sweatpants that, while baggy on Yamcha, threatened to burst at the seams on him. 

She’d had to call in her tailor when clothes thrifted from her ex’s wardrobe and standard human-sized clothing failed him. The short, slim man flushing prominently as he balanced on a stool in order to take the towering Saiyan’s measurements. The end result at least was a comfortable selection of well-fitting clothes and Raditz didn’t even seem to mind the absence of his armour after a while. Though she supposed over the passing months he’d relaxed quite a lot.

Bulma had expected him to bolt, or at least be antsy for a fight the way that the other Saiyans she’d become acquainted with often were. But he hadn’t, and wasn’t. It was nice. Having him around was nice, however jumpy he was about certain things or however many flirty puns flew over his head.

She watched as Raditz leaned down to gently place the chicken onto the grass. His mass of hair tied back with -- what was, by her design -- the world’s strongest scrunchie, shifting over his shoulder with the motion.

“I don't believe it requires improvement.”

“Is that what you took away from the hole in the chest?”

Raditz narrowed his eyes, glaring down his nose at the human. She often spoke to him this way, countering against his stubbornness with some rebuttal that would cause him to pause and carefully measure his response. Bulma had pegged that down to learned behaviour. One would be best off holding their tongue around Vegeta, after all. 

Taking his silence as a sign of victory, Bulma grinned.

“So you’ll take a look at them?”

The Saiyan turned away, folding his arms across the breadth of his chest and glowered across the expanse of the indoor courtyard.

“Perhaps--”

A high pitched beeping from her wrist caused Raditz’s attention to return to Bulma. She spun the tech watch towards herself to check the little display, bringing the notification chime to a halt.

“Huh, Its Cap 3,” she scrutinized the information on the display for a moment before clarifying to Raditz, “The ship Vegeta took. Looks like he's set course for Earth. Shit, he's low on fuel though. It'd be a miracle if he actually makes it.”

“He’ll be returning?” Raditz’s posture tensed.

“Yeah. If the fuel lasts then he'll be on earth in about eight days.”

Grumbling in acknowledgement, Raditz began to step back towards the chicken coop and returned his attention to the birds that paced lazily across the grass.

“You, uh, gonna be okay with that?” Bulma called out. 

When a response failed to come, she flicked her hair over her shoulder with a huff and stomped back to her lab.  
  


\--

  
  


Yamcha had taken rather easily to Raditz. It probably helped that he wasn't there during their initial confrontation with the Saiyan, but Yamcha just seemed to have that talent naturally. No matter how stubborn and closed off someone seemed, Yamcha just knew the right things to say to draw out a conversation from them. He knew how to make people feel comfortable, to feel special, and Bulma supposed it was all part of his charm. It had worked on her after all. 

It still hurt somewhat to think that their relationship was always doomed to fail. She loved Yamcha and probably always would, but Bulma was hard-headed. When she pushed against him instead of  _ pushing back,  _ he'd just drift away. That would make her even angrier and he'd drift further and the cycle would begin all over again. They were a flawed couple to be sure, but after the events on Namek they figured they could perhaps be good friends. 

He  _ was _ a good friend. Bulma casually decided to revive and board someone who had sparked the chain of events that had eventually resulted in the death of himself and their many friends, and perhaps an entire race of people, and here was Yamcha joining them for lunch while they prepared to meet someone who not long ago had been their feared enemy. He'd been in good spirits about it, although Bulma had really just wanted him around for support. 

Yamcha leaned over the back of his chair, propping his sunglasses on the top of his head, “So when's our man of the hour due to arrive?”

Bulma looked down at her watch and flipped it open to tap at the screen a few times, “Six minutes.” 

She honestly hadn't prepared what she wanted to say. ‘Welcome back to earth, by the way I used that wish you wanted to resurrect someone I'm well aware you dislike because I was annoyed about you leaving when I thought we had a thing’? Maybe she'd just let Raditz do the talking. They probably had a lot to discuss anyway. Or they'd just fight. Conversation avoided for her, either way.

Playing with the straw of the tall cocktail in front of him, Raditz mused aloud, “Do you think he found it? The key to becoming a Super Saiyan?”

“God I should hope not,” Bulma's arms fell to her sides in exasperation, “Could you imagine that guy any more drunk with power than be already is?” 

Raditz grunted an agreement, shaking his head as the human continued continued.

“Maybe it's like you said and there's just the one Super Saiyan. If it's Goku then we're okay.”

“And if I'm wrong then perhaps we're all dead.” 

They all considered this in silence, looking up at the sky until an orange glow, smaller and duller than that of the sun, began its rapid approach. Raditz rose to his feet and stepped towards the balcony to join Bulma. Capsule 3 rocketed down towards the earth in some disarray and Bulma was quick to observe that it's landing gear had not been deployed. She grimaced at the impending impact, “Oh that  _ stupid-- _ ”

She was cut off by an explosion of dust and debris as Capsule 3 collided at terminal velocity with the ground just outside the Capcorp building. Debris began to clatter on the surrounding buildings and Bulma uncurled herself from her recoiled position, only to find Raditz with his body angled between her and the blast. She blinked a few times before Raditz dipped down to place an arm around her waist to hoist her into an underarm carry -- not unlike one of his chickens, Bulma mentally noted -- and easily jumped up over the railings of the balcony.

At the frequency that it happened she should probably be more accustomed to being hauled into the air at the mercy of someone else. However, she was not. Bulma clung to Raditz's shirt with her eyes squeezed shut until he tapped down onto the ground in front of Capsule 3 and returned her to her feet. After a brief moment of recovery, she stared out upon the scene of the ship, lying on its side with its landing gear belatedly emerging and a cloud of thick smoke slowly rising from what she assumed was the engine.

Capsule 3 was an absolute write-off. Its chassis was mottled with a variety of dents and scorch marks, discounting entirely the damage from the impact to the ground. Bulma groaned. What in God’s name had he been doing in space? To her poor ship?

The vessel door hissed open, shifting a cloud of dust from the chassis. Vegeta emerged with his head low, his armour broken and torn and quite frankly  _ reeking _ . He glanced up at the small awaiting crowd and narrowed his eyes as his gaze fell upon Raditz.

“Oh. It’s you,” he finally spoke after a moment of tense silence.

“Is--, is that all you have to say, Vegeta? After you discarded me like trash?!” 

Raditz’s fists clenched as he barked at the other Saiyan. He snarled as he drew his fists up, pulling himself into an offensive stance and glaring at Vegeta, “I suffered in the pit of Earth's Hell and that's the best you can do?!”

“Spare me your dramatics, Raditz. I'm already pissed off,” Vegeta warned, stepping across the broken earth and casually strolling past the posturing of the other man, who sagged slightly.

“This was you?” he asked Bulma with a finger jabbed in Raditz’s direction, “Could’ve sworn you were smarter than that.”

Raditz and Bulma stood in silence, one beginning to tremble with barely-withheld rage and the other with her mouth agape as her mind raced with potential rebuttals. She planted her hands on her hips, raising her chin and looking down at the prince who stood several inches shorter than her.

“Not to imply that I’m  _ not _ ,” She tilted her head, pouting, “But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out a Saiyan is worth having around, Vegeta.” 

“That one isn’t.”

Vegeta continued to pad towards the main Capsule Corp building, thankfully unscathed from the crash landing. The doors slid open and Yamcha emerged hastily, flustering as he registered the Saiyan in front of him and adopting a similar offensive stance to Raditz. Puar clung to his shoulder, peering out with a frown. Vegeta paused to drag his gaze incredulously over the man as he looked him up and down. 

“Oh look, another one. Death just means nothing to you Earthlings, does it?” He sighed, turning back towards the other pair, “I don’t suppose Kakarot is also here?”

“Not yet,” Bulma replied, glancing over towards Raditz who was boring a hole into the ground with the intensity of his stare.

“Tch.”

Yamcha quickly sidestepped out of Vegeta’s path as he trudged into the Capcorp building and disappeared behind the closing doors. He shot a worried look towards Bulma, who shrugged. That could have gone a whole lot worse, she supposed. At least they weren’t dealing with the fallout of a fight between Saiyans.  _ That _ could’ve resulted in needing the dragon’s help again.

Remaining silent, Raditz slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. His tail had uncurled itself from his waist and was flicking sharply through the air, the short fur bristling. Broken pieces of concrete and earth at his feet shifted and started to rise as his energy began to build. He may have been a fool for expecting anything else of their reunion -- and of Vegeta --, but he was furious.

Raditz snarled, growling in surprise as Yamcha slapped him heartily on the back and threw his arm around his broad shoulders.

“Geez! Someone needs a shower, eh?” He laughed, Raditz being jostled from the Human’s enthusiastic embrace. Bulma stepped tentatively towards them with her arms folded across herself, surveying the damage to the landscape. 

“We should probably get this cleaned up,” She sighed, trying to pointedly ignore the topic of Vegeta, “That okay with you guys?”

Releasing the Saiyan, Yamcha pumped his fist to signal his willingness and Puar mirrored the gesture. After a moment Raditz finally tore his gaze upwards to meet Bulma’s. She struggled to read his expression, as she often did. As much as she tried to encourage him to drop his guard he would often mask his feelings, with the rare times that he expressed them quickly reined in, quashed before they could be registered as sincere. But for a moment, she thought he looked… hurt.

Bulma smiled up at him. He softened. 

Looping his tail back around his waist, he stepped towards the wreckage of Capsule 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yamcha is a good dude

**Author's Note:**

> i just think they'd be really cute


End file.
